Scarred For Life
by Libertas
Summary: A fanfiction about Severus Snape, before Harry Potter came along. (DISCONTINUED.)
1. Prologue

**Scarred For Life**

Disclaimer : I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. They belong to JK Rowling. 

Claimer (if there's a disclaimer, there should be a claimer, right?) : I own the plot.

A/N : By writing this, I'm actually assuming that the radio and tape player had been invented about thirty or forty years ago. If they hadn't, forgive the mistake and ignore it. Enjoy, and don't forget to review! 

**Prologue**

"Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer," he sang merrily, "had a very shiny nose…" His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning it every now and then. 

            "What's that funny song you're singing, Dad?" asked a young dark-haired boy sitting in the back passenger seat. He looked no older than seven. 

            "Oh, just some Muggle song I heard when I happened to pass by a Muggle home… Blimey, you won't believe what I saw – they just popped a thing-a-magic with two small rolls of tape in it into another thing-a-magic, pressed a button thingy, and sound came out! Bit complicated and inconvenient, of course, but I just can't imagine what those Muggles will think up next…"

            "That's not the worst yet, Ren," commented a woman on the front passenger seat – his wife. "Just the other day, I saw this Muggle in his house, sitting at a table with a box with buttons and long things sticking out of it. There was sound coming out of that box, and I swear I'm not loony. In fact, it sounded like someone talking. The voice was saying something so fast, I couldn't catch it, but it must have been a good thing, because the Muggle started throwing his hands in the air and whooping. Now I happened to stare at him – dumbstruck, I was – and then he looked back at me like _I'm_ the weirdo."

            The man chuckled. "Now you know why I work in the Department of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts, eh, Sev?" he said, turning to look at the boy. "Because I get to work with a lot of Muggles! They're damn fascinating, I'm telling you. You don't know what they're going to do next."

            The boy smiled comprehensively, looking at his father with a certain spark of interest in his dark eyes. The father looked back on the street in front of him, swerving barely just in time to avoid a truck, and the boy's eyes travelled onto the streets and buildings around him. Wow, he thought with awe. 

There were lights everywhere in every possible colour, though mostly in red, green and white, twinkling in every direction. Christmas trees seemed to have sprouted all over the place, decorated with silver and gold tinsel that reflected the orange streetlights, illuminating the buildings around them. The spirit of celebrating was in the air, and there wasn't a single road without a 'Happy Christmas' banner hung up above it. 

Severus could hear the faint echoes of Christmas carols, and he suddenly felt drowsy, as though voices of angels were resting him to sleep. His eyelids began to droop when –

_Clunk. Clunk. Wham. Bang._

Even though he had never really listened to Muggle songs carefully before, he knew that they didn't sound like that. He opened his eyes. There were people in black masks, jackets and trousers surrounding their car, banging and kicking on it; on the windows, the bumper, the doors. His father was panicking and his mother looked nothing short of petrified.

He didn't know what was going on, or who the men were. Robbers, was the first thought that came into his mind. Muggle robbers.

Suddenly, there was a very loud _bang_, followed by a _crash_. Something had cracked one of the windows. Severus looked down, and saw something small and shiny among the glass splinters; something that was the size of an elongated pea, but pointy on one side and metallic. He recognised it at once with horror – his father had shown it to him once. It was a bullet, a little device invented by Muggles that could easily pierce through anything when shot with a very strong force.

He looked up at the dark-clothed man nearest to the broken window. He was holding a – a gun. His father had shown him that too. It was a device that could shoot a bullet several distances accurately, given proper aim. He looked around, and saw that the other men were holding guns and knives as well. Every once in a while, there would be another _bang_, and tiny shards of glass would burst from one of the windows. 

His father's wand was out, although it was clear that he was not intending to cast any spell. He knew better than to reveal his identity as a wizard in front of Muggles. His wife was sobbing, begging the men to stop. Instead, the masked men just kept banging more and more, demanding them to get out of the car. 

After a few more minutes of banging and smashing, one of the men was able to push his hand into the driver's window and open the lock. With that, all of them charged at the car as one brute force and opened all the car doors, forcing the Snapes out. Severus could feel several rough hands handling him, pulling him out. 

He could hear the sound of people screaming now; people screaming and calling for help. The men with guns took no heed of them and kept struggling to get his father and mother out of the car. He could see his mother fighting to be let go of, and his father threatening one of the men with his wand, although it resulted in nothing more than a burst of mirthless laughter coming from the masked man. 

One robber was holding onto Severus tightly, dragging him painfully out of the car and onto the pavement nearby. He struggled to be free, punching and kicking at whatever he could, but still the robber gripped his arms tightly. 

"Stay still!" the man growled, as he reached one of his hands into his jacket, pulled out a gun and pointed it straight at the small boy's head. Severus trembled with both fear and anger – he couldn't decide which. 

"Let go of me!" he shrieked, frustrated. The masked robber simply ignored him.

"That will teach you not to be so stubborn!" someone snarled.

It was definitely coming from one of the masked men. It wasn't the one holding onto Severus, or the one struggling with his father. Then his eyes rested on his mother. 

One masked robber had one hand around the frail woman's neck, pining her against one side of the car. The other hand was holding a bloody knife, and stabbing at her non-stop. Patricia Snape's screams of pain reached her son's ear, and seemed to stay there. He was frozen. He was dumbstruck. He was shocked. He was shaking with fury. 

_Wham._ Soren Snape's head smashed onto the side of the car, knocking him unconscious. The masked robber standing beside him looked down of him triumphantly and spat at him with obvious relish. Severus's wrath grew steadily warmer, shaking him from head to toe. 

Suddenly, there was a wailing sound behind them. Muggle police cars and one ambulance raced towards the robbers. The masked men looked terrified, and all of them rushed to squeeze into the stolen car.

"Sorry, gotta go, kid," the man holding Severus said as he released his grip, as though he had just been playing an enjoyable game with the Snapes.

As the last of the masked robbers got into the car, the driver immediately started the engine, and raced off, skidding onto pavements and knocking off pedestrians; the police cars followed them in close pursue. The ambulance stopped just in front of the Snape family – two of them lying helplessly on the ground, one of them staring at the other two in disbelief.

            Paramedics, doctors and nurses got out of the ambulance, attending to Soren and Patricia Snape. One of them walked up to Severus and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

            "You all right, kiddo?" she asked, looking concerned. 

            He nodded absent-mindedly, unable to say anything. His eyes were fixed on his parents.

            "Don't worry," the nurse said reassuringly, "your folks are going to be _just fine_."

            The nurse lied.        

A/N : I just hope it didn't sound too stupid. Please tell me if you think it's stupid. *points to 'submit review'*             


	2. The Letter

**Scarred For Life**

**A/N :** Yay… the long-awaited chapter 2 is finally here! ^_^ I finally put aside my laziness to work on it. :p I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) Review, please… oh yeah, and Snapey rules! ^_^

**Disclaimer :** I do not own any Harry Potter characters, merchandise, etc. etc. etc. The only thing I own is the plot. So don't steal the plot, or any of J.K. Rowling's stuff, 'cause plagiarism sucks. 

**Chapter 2 : The Letter**

He woke up and blinked a few times. His vision was rather blurry. Slowly things came into sharper focus, and he looked around him. Everything seemed to be white. He must be in a hospital – a Muggle hospital. Then, he heard voices – voices of two people whom he could not see clearly because of the translucent white hangings around his bed. 

'How's the kid?'

'Only got a bruise and a cut. Just shocked, I think. He should come around soon.'

'How 'bout his mother?'

'Couldn't save her.'

'Oh.'

There was a pause. His heart was throbbing painfully against his chest.

'But she was so badly wounded, she wouldn't have lived a couple more days even if we did manage to revive her…and it would have been a very painful time for her anyway.'

'So you're saying that we did her a favour.'

'Sort of.'

'Still, I feel really bad for the boy.'

'Yeah. Poor kid.'

'And his dad?'

'Got a pretty lethal concussion on the head, but we saved him. Can't think much, though. Can hardly remember his own son…has to go for treatment twice a month from now on – every week, if it gets worse.'

'I'm sorry for the boy.'

'I know. But at least he's not dead.'

'Blimey, it's better to be dead than alive with a ruined family…_all in one night!_ It just seems so unreal, Nance. I've never felt so bad for a patient before.'

'I understand, and I suppose you're right. We shouldn't tell him about this though. He's too young to understand anyway.'

            A crackled voice ran through the loudspeaker system. 

            '_Nurse Rummings and Johnson, please report to Emergency Room 403 immediately… I repeat… Rummings and Johnson, report to Emergency 403 immediately…'_

            One of the voices spoke again.

            'Damn, it's the fifth late-night emergency this week.'

            'We'd better get going… we can check on him later.'

            Footsteps tinkled on the linoleum floor, slowly fading away, echoing distantly in his ears. He blinked once, twice – his vision had gotten extremely blurry again. He shut his eyes tightly as a tear trickled down his cheek, and willed himself to go back to sleep. 

~***~

'Could you get me the newspaper, Sean?'

'It's _Severus_, Dad.'

'_Just get the paper,_ _DAMN IT!_'

Severus Snape scrambled to his feet and ran outside to get the Daily Prophet. His face was screwed up in a tight frown, though not because of the gruesome article on the front page. He _hated_ it when his father flew into a rage like that. He _hated_ the way his father would scream at him just because he corrected a trivial mistake. He _hated_ the terrible mood swings that his father had – one moment he would be nice and calm and father-like, and the next he would be swearing and cursing. He _hated_ the way his father was so touchy about the fact that he couldn't remember half the things he had to remember, including his own son's name. First it had been Sam, then Leverus. This time was just one time too many. 

His father's shout could be heard even from the doorstep. 

'What's taking you so long?! _Bloody hell!_'

He swiftly went inside, and shoved the paper to his father's hands – so warm and reassuring they once had been, but now they were just menacing tools of terror and torture to him. 

Severus seated himself at the dining table at the chair furthest away from his father. He glanced at him. He was still fuming, staring fixedly at the paper and one hand gripping his cup of coffee so hard that it shook. 

'I'll be at my bedroom if you need me,' Severus said, leaving the table and walking towards the stairs. 

'What, you're not eating breakfast?'

'I'm not hungry.'

It took him less than a minute to walk up the stairs and into his bedroom. When he was finally inside, he shut the door and locked it. He breathed a small sigh of relief. 

These four walls concealed what seemed to be his means of escape from the daily dose of torturous reality he had to face – escape from his father, from the other children's taunts about having a mentally-unstable father and no mother, from strangers' pitying, patronising looks… It was only a very small room, but it seemed to contain everything he ever needed to live on, apart from food. On one side was his wardrobe, stacked with Muggle clothing as well as small-sized wizard robes, on another, just next to the windows, was his bed with its light blue bedspread and his journal hidden underneath the pillow. On the bed's left was a little wooden table with a single drawer; on the bed's right was a miniature bookshelf with his favourite books about Quidditch and Gobstones. 

He sat on his bed and looked at the photograph on his bedside table. The woman in the picture was blinking and smiling benignly at him. Every once in a while, she would disappear from the photograph, only to return a few seconds later.

He felt his stomach tighten. It had been so long…more than two years. It had been more than two years since the incident. It had left such a deep mark in him that he had begun thinking of it in capital letters – The Incident. _The _Incident. He looked at his left arm. There was a short, dark red slit across it – the scar. He didn't understand how he had escaped the attack with only a cut, while his father had damaged his brain permanently, and his mother had gotten a very deep and large wound around her abdomen. If only – if only they hadn't been rushed to a Muggle hospital…if only they had been taken straight to St Mungo's, they would probably have been healed back to their normal state in no time, and his mother would have had more chances of surviving.

It was _their_ fault – those Muggles' fault. _Muggles_ had attacked his family that night, _Muggles_ had taken them to the _Muggle _hospital, and _Muggle_ doctors didn't stand a chance of reviving his mother, even with their gadgets and thing-a-magicks. And as for his father – no form of treatment (counselling, Muggles call it) could ever return the memories into his permanently damaged lump of greymatter.

There were other photographs – old pictures stuffed in the drawer of his bedside table. Some of them were pictures of him, his mother and father, all smiling happily; some were of his mother and father together, and some were of either his father or mother, hugging him tightly and grinning all the while. 

Now they were only broken fragments of memories that only existed in his mind's eye. They would have held true, if only – 

_Tap. Tap._

Someone was knocking on his bedroom door very softly. He walked cautiously towards it, fearing that it might be his father. No doubt that his father had cooled off, but it would only take him two seconds to get angry again.

He opened the door, very slowly and warily. A withered old woman was standing before him, smiling kindly.

'Hello, Severus,' she said.

'Hello,' Severus replied, his mouth slowly curling into a smile. It felt rather strange; he wondered when was the last time he had worked his cheek and mouth muscles to smile. Then he asked her, 'What are you doing here?'

'I heard your father shouting.'

'Oh.'

He looked up at the twinkling greyish blue eyes that belonged to the only person he could confide in. In fact, he realised, Mrs Morris was probably the only person he had managed to get along with ever since The Incident. 

'May I come in, then?' she asked.

'Sure,' he answered, gesturing her inside and closing the door behind her.

They both sat down at Severus's bed and looked at each other.

'Do you want to tell me anything? Anything troubling you at all?' Mrs Morris gave him a penetrating look. 'Any worries about your father, or –'

'Well…' He considered it for a moment. 'I – I was thinking about my mother.'

Mrs Morris put an arm around his shoulder. 'There's nothing you can do about it, dear. You know it. We've talked about this many times.'

'I know that you know that I know it. But I still can't help it. I –'

He didn't think he could bring himself to say that he had been having murderous thoughts about Muggles. He shuffled his feet uneasily.

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing – never mind.'

She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could pursue the subject, she was completely distracted by what happened next.

A tawny owl soared through the open window and landed on the window sill. It clicked its beak impatiently, waiting for the addressee to untie the envelope from its legs. 

Severus and his old neighbour exchanged surprised and bewildered looks, as he never received any letter from anyone before. He walked over to unattach the envelope, and the owl flew off immediately as he did so. He now looked at the thick envelope in his hands curiously. It bore a seal of what looked like a lion, a snake, a badger and an eagle surrounding a large letter "H". 

'Ah, you've got an acceptance letter from Hogwarts!' Mrs Morris exclaimed, looking pleased and delighted. 'Your father will be proud!'

Severus's heart thudded with excitement. He had heard of Hogwarts before. It was one of the best wizarding schools in the world. Eagerly, he opened the envelope and took out a piece of parchment. There was the school crest at the top of it, followed by a few lines written in green ink :

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr Snape,  
            We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a list of necessary books and equipment.  
            We await your presence on 1 September._

__

Yours Sincerely,  
Magdalene Holswright  
Deputy Headmistress 

There was another piece of parchment inside the envelope, which contained the list of supplies needed. He scanned it, although his mind wasn't concentrating on it at all. He almost jumped for joy as he worked out what it all meant : he would be going to Hogwarts in just a few weeks, he would be away for one whole glorious year – away from his father, away from everything, and he would only see this godforsaken place again next summer.

            Mrs Morris was smiling at him, and he grinned back. Nothing could put down his high spirits now, not even the rumble of footsteps at the stairs that meant that his father was coming up to his room.


	3. New Life, New Friends

**Scarred For Life**

**Disclaimer : **I own Harry Potter and everything else related to him. Pfffttt. I wish. They all belong to J.K. Rowling… *sigh* The plot belongs to me, though, so no stealies! =P

**A/N :** All right… sorry for taking so long to update. But I DO have a life besides writing… I enjoy it, but it's not my main hobby, and anyway there's school that I need to focus on. Especially around this time, when tests and exams are coming on swift wings… Well, hope you like this, and pray that I can write the fourth chapter ASAP. I think I'll be focusing more on this fic than my other one, since I feel more comfortable writing this one. :) Let J.K. take care of the fifth book… I've run out of ideas already. Heh. So if you happen to like HPTPR… too bad. XD Oh, and before I forget, thanks to everyone who has reviewed my fics... You guys rock. ;)

**Chapter 3 : New Life, New Friends**

_Good for you, son._

            That was all. Not a single hug, not even a smile. _Good for you._

            The words kept replaying themselves over and over in his mind. He stared grumpily at random passers-by as he stood by himself with his heavy wooden trunk beside him in the crowded train station. 

            _He didn't even bother to send me off._

            Mrs Morris had gladly offered to send him to King's Cross station that day, but she had had to rush off immediately as she had an errand to run. He was completely alone, feeling stupid, and the hem of his slightly oversized school robes trailing behind him wherever he walked. He felt stupider when he noticed that he was the only one on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters wearing the black school robes.

            _This is all his fault._

            He looked enviously at numerous students in Muggle clothing, being hugged and kissed goodbye by their parents, then told himself that he was being silly. He didn't need all that. He didn't need parents. He didn't need company. He would get a car in the train all to himself if he could. He had himself, as well as his new school things, and that was enough. He didn't need anyone. He didn't need friends. He didn't need love. He didn't need –

            'Chocolates and candies from home,' he heard someone said loudly a few feet away from him. 'Don't forget them.'

            _Oh yeah, and those too,_ he added absent-mindedly to himself.

            _What?_

            He did a double take, and turned to look in the direction where the voice came from. The speaker was a man, clothed in gleaming silvery-black robes, with short pale hair as silky as his voice. He was talking to a boy with about the same features, wearing the Hogwarts robes and sneering haughtily at everyone else in the station as he clutched onto several boxes unmistakably full of the best Honeydukes sweets. His mother was practically curdling him. 

            The pale-skinned boy caught Severus looking at him, and he quickly looked down at his feet. There was something intimidating about those three people. Just breathing the same air which they were breathing made him feel awkward. He kept his eyes on the ground and didn't look up until he felt a tap on his shoulder.

            'Hey.' It was the blond-haired, pale boy talking to him. His sneer had been wiped off his face, but nevertheless, Severus felt the patronising aura about him.

            'Hey,' Severus replied, warily. He didn't know why, but he had a prickly feeling on the back of his neck. 

            'My name's Lucius Malfoy,' the pale boy said. 'What's yours?' He didn't smile, just fixed a hard look with his cold grey eyes.

            _Malfoy._ The Malfoys were one of the richest wizarding families in the world. He wasn't sure what to say and how to act.

            'Severus Snape.'

            'Nice to meet you, Sev,' Lucius said, and relaxed his face into a half-smile. He extended a hand to Severus.

            He felt awkward, but nonetheless honoured, to shake hands with a Malfoy. 

            'You look like you don't have a lot of friends here,' Lucius said. 'You're the boy with the dead mum and the mental dad, aren't you?'

            _They may be rich,_ Severus thought, _but if the Malfoys are lacking in one thing, it's tact. Or maybe more like just a tad of sensitivity._

            'Yeah,' Severus replied, not sure whether to keep cool and calm or to look pained. 

            'My dad used to know yours. He says your father is a bit of a nutcase even before the accident – always mingling with Muggles and such. You aren't the same, are you?' Lucius' sneer returned to his face.

            Severus was starting to dislike Lucius more and more now. His dad wasn't exactly his favourite person in the world, but he was still the only dad he could ever have. But something had struck the mark. Lucius had turned to the subject of _Muggles_. Severus felt his fist clench.

            'No,' he replied defensively, almost without thinking.

            'Good,' Lucius grinned. 'I see you're not like some people after all. You know what, Sev? I think we can be friends.'

            Severus didn't say anything. He didn't want to be friends with someone like Lucius. But on the other hand, Lucius hates Muggles too. That brought one common interest between them. And besides, Lucius was right – he didn't have any friends. He might as well make one while he could. 

            'Yeah,' he said. 'I suppose we can.'

            Lucius grinned widely. 'Come on,' he said. 'I'll take you to my folks. You can put your trunk on our trolley.'

~***~

The meeting with Lucius' "folks" turned out to be another handshake and a brief talk about the Ministry's latest blunders. Mrs Malfoy kept quiet, though she remained haughty and unruffled. Mr Malfoy couldn't stop talking about how the Ministry failed to catch a Muggle pickpocket who stole a wizard's wand. Clearly, making people look bad so he could look much better than them was a favourite hobby of his. It made Severus feel quite sickened and disgusted, but nevertheless, he shook hands with Mr Malfoy without recoiling, laughed at the right places and added in a few comments about the Ministry's "inefficiency".

            'He's Snape's son?' Severus heard Mr Malfoy mutter to Lucius.

            'Yes, father,' Lucius replied.

            'Seems like a nice boy,' Mr Malfoy continued. 'Keep an eye on him.'

            Severus pretended that he didn't hear anything, and kept silent until the train came. Then, he felt greatly relieved to finally be able to get away from the Malfoys. Lucius seemed all right, but his parents made him feel very small and low, somehow. He waited patiently as Mr Malfoy hugged his son briefly, and Mrs Malfoy clung onto Lucius for at least a few minutes. Then they both walked towards the steaming red engine.

            'Hey, let's join my friends over there,' said Lucius, dragging him towards a compartment nearby. 

            Severus had wanted a compartment all to himself and his new friend, but decided that it couldn't hurt to meet a few other people. He let Lucius pull him towards the compartment. There, he saw two boys his age, but definitely not his size. They were at least twice as big as he was. Each one taking the space of two seats, they looked almost like twins.

            'This is Crabbe,' said Lucius, pointing to the first one, 'and Goyle.' He pointed to the other one. 'Their parents are my parents' friends, and my family has been close to their families for generations. Don't mind their gibbering, they're quite stupid.' He smirked.

            Severus smiled back, weakly. He reluctantly shook hands with both Crabbe and Goyle, and after the whole thing he could barely feel his hand again.

            'Well, now that we all know each other, let's set a few things straight,' Lucius began, as though it was a speech. 'Make sure you pay attention, especially you, Severus, after all the years you spent with that mad maniac of a father you have.'

            _Rules? Mad maniac? _Lucius was talking as though he was the ruler of the universe.

            'You see,' Lucius continued, 'in Hogwarts, and in many other wizarding schools, there are people like _us_, _real_ wizards coming from _real_ wizarding families, growing up to be _real_ wizards. We're the Purebloods. Then there are those, in the lower castes if I may say so, who do not fulfill all those three categories. Those are the ones you don't want to mess with. Stay away from them; all they bring is trouble to our pure wizarding blood.

            'In Hogwarts, there are four houses – Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. I guarantee you, we're going to be in Slytherin, the best one of all. I've heard that Slytherin is constantly fighting with Gryffindor for the House Cup – that's a sort of prize for the best house of the year – but I think it's not going to be very hard to beat that bunch of dunderheads. The important thing is, _never mix with a Gryffindor_. The rivalry between us is no longer just some mere game – it's hatred. Don't even ask about the other two houses. Those are left for the nerds and idiots.'

            Lucius looked meaningfully at the other three in the compartment, and Severus kept his eyes on the ground. So it was no different at all. Hogwarts was just another society – with fixed beliefs and prejudices. How was his life going to ever change?

            Severus barely heard Lucius talk on and on, about the people he hated, about the pranks he was thinking of playing on the Gryffindors, about the teachers. He was too busy thinking. He didn't think he could stand the pressure his friends, especially Lucius, were putting on him. He had to stick to one group of friends, and he had to learn to hate others. Especially Gryffindors. He wondered if they were as hateful as Lucius described them. And for the first time in a long time, he wished he was back home with his father.

_Anything is better than this_, he sighed to himself. But the train speeded by, and they would be reaching Hogsmeade station soon.


	4. Discontinuation Note

**Scarred For Life** **Discontinuation Note**

Scarred For Life is now officially discontinued. The facts in this fic do not agree with those in the real Harry Potter series, and although I really _really_ want to continue writing this, I just can't.

As compensation, I will rewrite the entire fanfic – whip it up into something new, according to the new facts revealed in the 5th HP book. It'll be similar; it'll focus on Snape as the main protagonist. The storyline will also be quite similar… but I'll make some changes of course.

Hopefully my second attempt will be more accurate, more interesting and more realistic. (Or, as realistic as it gets in the wizarding world anyway.) Pray that I'll be able to finish it this time, eh?

And A BIG MASSIVE THANK YOU to all reviewers, to all who didn't review but bothered to read anyway, and to everyone who supported me in any way. I really appreciate it. 

I will publish my second attempt at this story as soon as possible – right now I'm swamped in all sorts of work I have to do. This fic has been discontinued, but I shall not remove it, for memory's sake. :)

~Libertas (01/07/03)


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